


Contrast

by ChimaAmla



Category: Bicycle Boy, Original Work, Unhistory
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Brandr is an enabler, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Size Kink, Sort Of, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12488636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChimaAmla/pseuds/ChimaAmla
Summary: Machk wanted to steal this dumb warlord kid away and hide him from the world, or maybe run away with him.





	Contrast

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for TEN FOREVERS, Jack I love you and thank you for your patience

"Got two coming over the ridge.  They're trying to stay under cover, but they're doing a  _ really  _ bad job at it."

"Why the hell aren't they bunked down, with the storm moving in?"

"Looks like they've got some tagalongs."

"Danger?"

"Got it in one.  Three with shit-beaters, two big guys, and four with knives.  One of the runners just went down from something they threw at him, looks like he's modded pretty heavy.  Other's just got a smart leg."

"Did he just pick the other guy up and keep going?  No way, prosthetic leg wouldn't hold up to that."

"You're gonna pick 'em up?"

"Are you coming or not?"

***

Machk scrambled over the snow-dusted scree, not even feeling the cold through the panic electrifying his muscles.  The snow was getting thicker, but the whoops and yells of the bandits after them were getting louder a lot faster, and Poet was heavy as he clung to Machk's back.  If they could just get to high ground, there might be enough cover to protect them and enough rocks to drive off the bandits, but the ground was only uneven and rising slowly.  The snow was getting thick enough Machk couldn't see very far into the distance, now, so he just had to hope that the terrain changed  _ somehow  _ from this damn wide-open tumble of rocks, and that they could get there before the bandits caught up.

Something clanged and Poet gave a pained, scared noise, clutching at Machk's shoulders.  The flat stone Machk stepped on tilted and skid under his feet as his weight shifted and then he was tumbling a half-dozen feet down into a space between two boulders, slamming his shoulder into the freezing stone and scrabbling to keep from getting his legs buried under the gravel that tumbled down with them.  He clawed his way back to his feet, covering his head as fist-sized rocks clattered against the bouldertop above him and the bandits' cackles got closer through the blowing snow.

Then a massive laugh erupted from the other side of the rocks and more scree tumbled down, but the snow was too thick to make out anything more than a huge pale shape leaping over the shallow crevasse Machk and Poet were trapped in.  It landed with a pounding of feet so heavy that more rocks tumbled down on top of them, and then two smaller shadows were leaping over them after the first.

"Fuck, we ain't--"

"Too far!  We didn't mean--"

A mad laugh cackled from above, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting flesh.  "You think you can get away with poaching on the Bear's land?!"

"Shit, Bodg--!"

"Back, fall back!"

Machk crawled low along the gulley, heart pounding hard enough to nearly make him blind.  The Storm shouldn't have been this far south, they were barely on the edge of the snow - but there they were, and his and Poet's only hope was that the Storm would head back to their camp because of the snow instead of looking for the two of them long enough to find them.

Poet was limp on Machk's back, and Machk dragged himself low along the ground to keep him where he was.  The yells and clashing from above were moving farther away, and Machk rolled Poet off his back and tucked him into an alcove, scooping shovelfuls of gravel and dust over him as quickly as he could before he squirmed under the low edge of an overhang himself.  He scraped dirt and rocks in and over himself frantically, trying desperately to make his dark skin blend better with the pale rocks and snow.

The wind howled between the boulders.

Then suddenly there was the heavy clatter of someone jumping into the gulley.  "See 'em?" someone called from above.

"Not in this snow," a deep voice called back, and then Machk heard the cautious crunch of footsteps in gravel coming nearer.

Machk held dead still, praying that Poet wouldn't wake up yet, praying that they were covered in enough grit and snow they wouldn't be spotted.  He held his breath even though his lungs screamed for air and stars burst in his vision.  Dust choked in his throat and he gagged to cover a cough.

There was a groan and the footsteps whirled around, kicking gravel up over Machk's face as the man moved toward Poet.

Machk threw himself out of cover, swinging his shovel before he could even think - but instead of the sound of it slashing into flesh, it crashed against metal that sent shudders up his arms, and then Machk's breath was knocked out of him and he was dizzy and flying head over heels.  His back hit stone and then his chest hit gravel and he couldn't breathe, couldn't get his limbs under him, tasted vomit in his mouth, had to get up, had to protect Poet--

A leg swung across his back and then he was forced facedown into the cold gravel, dust and cold choking in his mouth and throat.  He clawed and kicked at the ground and gasped under the weight of whoever was sitting on him, but a hand planted on the back of his head and forced his cheek against the ground so hard he couldn't even twist anymore.

"Got the other one?" the man on top of him rumbled, accent so thick it was almost an impediment, and Machk heard the grating squeal of Poet being dragged out with another groan.

"Jesus, he's heavy," someone grumbled.  Machk could only barely see Poet out of the corner of his eye, a slowly-moving pile of cloth and metal and pale skin with a man dressed in whites and pale blues standing over him.

A displeased rumble, "Watch y--"

"Yeah, sorry.  Looks like he's fading in and out, bleeding from the back of his head some.  Missing...just about everything, godda-- _ sorry, _ fuck, it just looks like all he's got left is his head and some belly."  The man leaned down over Poet, brushing a hand over his face.  "Goin' blue pretty quick, best get him back fast."

The weight on Machk's back seemed to double, and what little air he'd managed to draw in was forced out in a gagging choke.  "What were you gonna do with him?" the man above him rumbled, almost growled, as he pushed Machk's face into the gravel so hard the stone bit into his cheek and his skull creaked.

Machk fought to even breathe, and then the weight let up just enough for him to wheeze in enough breath to stumble out "Guide, protecting him, chased-" before his lungs were crushed down again.

"All clear," a woman Machk couldn't see said from above them.  "Storm's comin' in heavy, though.  You brought it down too hard," Machk could hear a grin in her voice.  "Gonna let it bury them after all this trouble?"

"No," the rumble said from above Machk, and then the weight was off him and he caught one gasping breath before he shoved himself backward to where he thought his shovel might be.

It wasn't, his hand only scuffled across the dirt and rocks and landed on a stone that fit perfectly in his palm, but he was sitting now and had a few feet between he and the three Stormers.  The woman on the boulder above was tall and rugged and had a length of pipe as long as she was tall that she was leaning on like a staff or spear; the man standing over Poet was slighter and shorter and seemed unarmed, but with the gold hair pulled back from his face it was impossible to mistake the deadly look in his eyes.

But neither of them was anything next to the man right in front of Machk, huge and pale and wearing a polar bear's skin like a cloak and with metal plates covering his chest and both arms.  The Great White Bear of the Storm had come out himself to protect his territory.

Machk gritted his teeth and gripped the stone tighter, pushing himself up into a crouch.  "Let him go."

"You don't want to do that," the Bear said, frowning and setting his shoulders.

"He's my responsibility," Machk said as he rose slowly.  The world was still reeling, and now that he wasn't running the cold and wind were biting into him like knives.  "Let him go, and you'll never see us again."

The Bear stared at him for another few moments, and then relaxed.  "You'll both freeze out here."  He turned half away, but kept his eyes on Machk as he called back behind him and gestured, "Get him up, let's get them back before these summerboys turn into popsicles."  He turned back to Machk.  "Can you walk on your own?"

Machk watched the smaller man pull Poet - still mostly unconscious - to his broken feet, still tense and ready to spring.  "Where are you taking him?"

"You too," the Bear said.  "We're taking you back to camp so you don't die out here.  If  _ you  _ want to, you're welcome to, but he," he jabbed a thumb over at Poet, who was being hauled up out of the gulley by the woman, "is coming back with us to get put back together.  Storm's getting heavy, so we can't wait around for you."  Then his face softened.  "We're not gonna hurt him, or you.  I don't know your story, but it seems like you were doing right by him, so if you'll stay good we'll stay good.  Deal?"

The woman had Poet draped across her cloaked shoulders, now, and the gold-haired man was looking back at Machk and the Bear with an expression halfway between worry and threat.  Machk reached down, dropping the rock and trading it for his shovel, but then slid the shovel into its holster deliberately.  "All right.  Deal."

***

Snow.  Blinding, stinging, biting, dragging at his feet as he stumbled after the shapes of the gold-haired man and the woman carrying Poet.  The Bear cleared a path in the deepening snow ahead of them but Machk's feet were dragging from exhaustion - carrying Poet had almost done him in, and that had been with adrenaline pushing him forward.  Now his lungs burned from cold and his muscles ached, his locks stiff and heavy with ice, and he couldn't stop the shivers that wracked his body.

Rough hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him up to his knees.  The blowing snow was blurring into the dark of the falling night.  Hot breath was on his face, and he could dimly see a pale face and blue, blue eyes.  Someone was saying, something.

Then dizziness, and dark, and warmth and pressure all across his front, and something draped over his back.  He clutched at the warmth without thinking, sliding away from metal and burying his stinging face against hot, sweat-salty skin as the world spun and jumped and danced and faded to black.

***

"...rm is falling asleep."

"I'm not surprised, you're such a..."

Machk felt completely surrounded by warmth, and softness, and dim, flickering yellow light.

_ "Not now, Brandr." _

"Oh come on, he's still on you like a limpet, he's still out.  He won't care."

"Don't be perverse."

The blankets shuffled as the body in front of Machk shifted, and someone laughed quietly.  Machk could hear the wind howling and pulling at the thick cloth of the walls of the tent, and he tightened his arms around the warm body with back to his front.

"Is he finally coming around?"

"Maybe," the man in front of him rumbled quietly, and then shifted again.  "Summerboy, you back with the living?"

Machk's eyes shot open and he shoved away from the man - or tried to.  What happened instead was one eye gummed open and the other didn't, and he got tangled in the blankets when his body moved sluggish and awkward instead, and a bray of laughter came over the mountain of shoulders in front of him.  The blond man appeared on the other side of the bed as the Bear  _ oh fuck THE BEAR _ rolled onto his back and laughed too, the whole tent filling with the noise.

Machk could feel that all his weapons and tools had been taken off him, and was casting about for them when the blond laughed and said, "Easy, you're all right, we just couldn't get you off him and we weren't about to leave you attached with a knife on you."

"Your things are over there," the Bear said, still half-laughing from his back as he gestured over to the other side of the tent, where everything of Machk’s except the clothes on his back were shuffled into a pile.  The Bear sat up a moment later and rotated his shoulder with a creak of metal and a relieved grunt.  "Finally.  Help me get this thing off?" he said to the blond, who obligingly reached for the straps of the metal plates - was that actual  _ armor? _ \- attached to the Bear's front and back and arms.

Machk stood as they worked to get the armor off, moving toward his things.  The tent was tall enough for even him to stand in with his head not even brushing the ceiling, and wide and square enough that there was plenty of room for a small table with a fistful of candles burning on it in the corner.  There was a rack with the blond man's blue and white cloak and the Bear's pelt hanging from it, dripping onto the blankets and pillows spread across the entire floor.  Machk had the disorienting feeling that he’d stepped into a storybook, some bizarre medieval fairy tale.

The Bear groaned and Machk looked back just as the blond man helped him out of the last of the metal around his arms, leaving him in a long shirt and loose pants.  The Bear dropped his head back dramatically and then flopped down into the pile of blankets with a  _ whump. _  "Never let me lay down in that ever again.  It  _ pinches. _  And it's cold as a witch's tit, even through the padding."

"Whine to Kalle, just as long as it keeps you from getting stabbed then I'm happy with it.  That one seemed to think it was warm enough," the blond jerked his head at Machk, who was trying not to stare.  It was hard to match the terrified rumors of the Great White Bear that came down with the ice storms from the north, with the man pouting from on his back as he squirmed out of a sweaty shirt.

"Doing all right?" the Bear asked Machk as he pushed himself up again, scruffing at his hair, and Machk saw that most of the side of his head was a huge burn scar and all that was left of his ear on that side was a stub.  "You were pretty far gone for a bit there."

"Where's Poet?" Machk said instead of answering, trying not to sound as unsteady as he still felt.  How was this man  _ alive.   _ "And the woman who took him, and - the rest of the Storm."

"Out there somewhere," the Bear waved past the fastened entrance to the tent, and then continued quickly at Machk's panicked look.  "In their own tents!  He's fine, he's with Monika, she's the best with mechanical stuff.  The Tercio will take care of him."  The Bear went on to groan in annoyance when Machk made for the tied-shut entrance to the tent.

The blond man beat Machk there, his wiry hand holding the inner flaps of the tent shut as he glared up at Machk.  "The snow is still coming down like mad out there, there's no point in going out."

"I promised I'd keep him safe," Machk glared right back, and reached out to push the blond man aside.

A knife was against the tendons on the inside of Machk's wrist before he could even blink, the man's other hand gripping his own tight enough against it he didn't dare try to pull away.  He could feel a thin trickle of blood running into his palm.  "Isak didn't say you could go."

"Brandr!" the Bear - Isak - snapped, on his feet in an instant, and it was a force of will not to dodge away; Brandr’s knife would have crippled him before he could move, but Isak was  _ massive _ , a whole mountain range rolling toward them.

"He shouldn't be running around camp!" Brandr snarled and his hand came off Machk’s wrist, the knife disappearing who knew where.  "The others don't know who he is, and who knows what he could get into-"  Before Machk could even make a move to escape, Isak was in close and grabbing his arm.

"Get a bandage," Isak said as he turned Machk's hand over to look at the shallow cut across his wrist.   _ "Get a bandage!" _ he nearly roared at the other man when Brandr hesitated, and clapped a huge hand over Machk's wrist to squeeze against the bloodflow.  His calluses stung the cut like a line of fire up Machk’s forearm.  "'S not a deep cut, hands just bleed a lot," Isak explained with a forced smile as Brandr swore and stomped his way to dig through a pack on the far side of the tent.

"Here!" Brandr snapped, and a roll of bandages bounced off Isak's head a moment later.  Machk put his own hand over the still-bleeding cut when Isak released him to pick up the bandages, and tried to figure out if he was watching a mutiny or a lovers' spat.

Isak held the bandages out from arm's distance, clearly trying not to crowd Machk.  "He's overprotective," Isak said very quietly as Machk took the bandages and started to wind them around his wrist.

"No, you're too trusting!" Brandr snapped at him anyways, but had thrown himself down in a chair in a huff and was glaring at them from across the tent.  "Send the stranger out into camp!  Let him sneak into our supplies or cut someone's throat!  You know how many people want Frauke dead?   _ I _ don't even know how many people want Frauke dead!"

_ "That's enough!" _ Isak snarled and whirled on Brandr.  "If he wants to go out in the snow after his friend then  _ we will bring him to him." _  And then he was dragging a dry cloak from the stand next to them and tying it tight over Machk's shoulders, and sweeping his bearskin over his own before shoving Machk into the tent wall.

Machk fumbled through the layers of cloth but they parted before him, and then suddenly he was assaulted by biting cold.  Isak pushed out after him and laid a hand on Machk's shoulder, guiding him through the blowing snow ahead of him as Machk pulled the cloak tight around himself to try to cut the wind.  He’d had half a thought of making a run for it, but the snow and cold blinded him to anything the sudden move from candlelight to night hadn't, and he stumbled through the knee-deep drifts.  Isak crowded against him when Machk stopped suddenly at the dark shape looming out of the snow, but then Isak was reaching over Machk's shoulder and pushing layers of cloth out of the way.

"Come in after me," Isak breathed hot in Machk's ear, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck as Isak moved close around him to push through the tent's entrance first.  "Monika?"

"Are the rest of us chopped liver?"  More than one woman laughed from inside the tent, glittering and bright, and Machk pushed through the cloth after Isak.

He wasn't even surprised that a machete point was at his throat when he came free of the cloth.  He slowly raised his hands to show he was unarmed, and a moment later the barely-clothed woman holding the machete lowered it and leaned back against a nearby workbench.  She didn't sheathe it, just stared at him from under long hair so pale it was nearly white as she ran a whetstone menacingly along the machete's edge.

Isak had already shed his cloak against the simmering heat and sat by a woodstove tucked near the back wall of the tent, across from a tall, sturdy woman who was smiling quietly at something he'd said as she tended the fire.  She had a half-intentional smudge of soot across the bridge of her nose, and her reddish hair was messy and looked like she simply chopped locks off with a knife whenever they started getting in her way.  Off to one side of the tent was a table, and a third woman was examining Poet's legs as he lay sprawled on top of it.

"Poet!"

"Don't shake the table!" the woman said and swatted Machk's arm with a screwdriver without even looking up from Poet's knee.

"Machk," Poet said, a shaky smile spreading across his face as Machk gripped his hand tight.  "I'm glad you're all right."

"Are you ok?" he asked, looking Poet up and down - it was so rare to see him without his cloak, it almost shocked him to be reminded of how much of Poet was metal.  But the metal was polished bright here and there, mostly near his joints, and nothing seemed to be missing.

"She knows what she's doing," Poet said, and looked down at the woman who was working so intently on his knee that her nose was nearly buried in it.

"Of course I know what I'm doing," the woman said, blowing at a lock of pale hair that had fallen out of the messy braid her hair was tucked back into.  It fell right back against her freckles and glasses, and she scowled at it but kept working at Poet's knee with her little tools.

"So what's the damage report?" Isak asked, lounging back in his chair.

"Nothing's been well taken care of," Monika said into Poet's knee.  "And his charge was down to almost nothing.  Don't let that happen," she pointed at Poet’s face with her pinky as she continued working.  "It looks like he's probably got half his guts replaced by artificial ones.  You don't want to see what happens when those start running down."  She slowly leaned back, carefully pulling a twist of something crinkled and blackened out of Poet's knee with tweezers.  She set it aside and pushed her glasses up over her forehead, rubbing her eyes, and the woman by the fire reached over to rub her shoulder with a callused hand.  "One of his leg struts is badly bent, and that ankle joint is barely more than scrap.  But I can fix it no problem if you give me a couple of days to make a replacement."

"She fixed my hand," Poet said quietly, holding up his hand to show it.  There was barely any trace of where it had been smashed and twisted, just a few discoloured spots on the metal and a few cables that looked newer than before.

"We're not going anywhere in this storm, so unless you're in a hurry," Isak said, looking expectantly at Machk.

***

Machk woke from his doze with a start, looking around in confusion.

Poet was still stretched out across the table, dead to the world and snoring softly with his hands resting across his belly.  The fire was nothing but coals, casting a dim, red glow through the tent.  Isak was gone, and the three girls were an indistinct pile of blankets off to the side.

Something moved outside again, the sound strangely muffled.  "Isak, leave it be, we're not leaving this bed for hours," the mechanic - Monika - called sleepily from the pile, and threw something that hit the side of the tent with a dull thud.  Machk pushed himself to standing and moved toward the entrance of the tent, not missing the icy blue eyes that watched him from the pile of blankets as he pulled on the cloak Isak had given him and wrapped it tightly around himself.

He pushed out of the tent and gasped for breath through his hands to try and warm the frigid air before it hit his lungs.  The sky was halfway clear, the bottoms of the clouds pink with sunrise and everything glittering like crystal under the fresh snowfall.  The waist-deep snow leading away from the tent had been packed down and shoved to the sides, leaving a relatively walkable - if narrow - path to the next tent over, and the next.  Machk saw that unmistakable polar bear pelt moving slowly along another path and made a beeline for it.

Isak was stomping and pushing through the snow, breath panting out of him in foggy clouds.  "Sleep well, Summerboy?" he asked without turning around or slowing.

"At some point," Machk said cautiously.  "Need any help?"

"Sure," Isak grinned over his shoulder, face flushed with cold and exertion.  "Make a path to Rocky?" he pointed off to the side, toward a greyish-green tent a few paces away, and Machk broke away from him to clear a path.

It was harder work than it looked.  The snow was heavy and snuck into any crevasse it could find as he pushed it aside, clinging to his pants and cloak and weighing him down as it melted.  Isak didn’t even seem to care, pushing and tromping like it was a game he was winning.

"I always try to clear a way after a snow," Isak said between laboured breaths.  "Make some use of these big stupid feet, then stick them under Brandr's ass to warm them up when I'm done," he laughed.  His accent was almost musical, now that Machk had gotten a chance to start getting used to it.  "I'm glad Monika could help your boy," Isak said after a pause.  "He was in a bad way.  You too, for that matter.  Why'd you come so far north?  You would've been buried until spring if we hadn't found you."

"Didn't have a lot of choice," Machk said, and then followed when Isak motioned for him to.  "We got cut off.  Been trying to lose them for days, and then Poet's knees started going and they started catching up."

"Thought you could lose them in the cliffbeds?" Isak asked as he cleared the top off a mound of snow on the edge of camp and revealed a stack of wood.

"Something like that," Machk said, holding out his hands for Isak to load up his arms.  It had been  _ stupid, _ but they'd been panicking and delirious.

"Well, good thing we found you," Isak said, and then heaved a double-armful of half-dry branches under his arms and then pointed back into camp with his chin.  "Long as you can keep our big scary stories together, you can stay as long as you need."

Machk didn't think any stories needed to be told.  Sure, he'd heard more than he'd seen; stories of entire encampments wiped out, half the people killed and the rest left to starve or freeze, whichever came first after the Storm had come through with the snows to take what they needed or wanted.  But he'd also seen the haggard, half-dead people that staggered into LSC with those stories, and seen the pulverized bodies left behind when the spring thaw uncovered them.

"We don't start anything with people who don't start anything with us," Isak said, like he knew what Machk was thinking.  "I've got rules about that sort of thing.  We don't take more than people can spare when we come through, and we always give back whatever we can.  Sometimes that's things we've picked up, and sometimes it's a head-smashing for someone who's been giving them trouble.  Sometimes that's the best you can give someone.  We don't do anything to anyone who doesn't have it coming."

Isak kicked snow away from an area half-sheltered by a cracked boulder the size of a house and dropped the wood on the ashes underneath.  A few moments of arranging it and pulling tinder from a box in his pocket and then he was cracking flint and steel, once, twice, the two fingers missing from his left hand not slowing him down at all, and the tinder was smouldering on the third strike and how the hell had he gotten all that wet wood to catch so quick?

"You can go back in if you want, but I'm gonna feed this 'til Rocky gets up.  He'll get some hot food together for us."  Isak sat back in the snow and made a little hollow for himself in it, putting his boots so close to the fire Machk was sure he'd melt the soles off them.

"So what do you want from us?" Machk asked, crouching to keep more of himself close to the fire as he warmed his numb fingers, trying not to stare at Isak’s loose-limbed sprawl.

"Why would we want something from you?"

Machk rolled his eyes.  "I'm not an idiot; it can't be easy to live like this," he waved his hands back at the dozen tents scattered in the snow around the big cracked stone like tossed dice.  "Nothing's free, so what's it going to cost us?"

"What've you got to give?"

Machk rocked forward and back on his heels, thinking.  He didn't have anything even remotely valuable in his pack, and Monika clearly knew her way around machines better than he did.  He was strong enough to work, but there were enough able Stormers that that wasn't an issue.

"Maybe you didn't hear me before, Summerboy,” Isak said when Machk still hadn't answered.  “We don't take things people can't spare.  If you've got nothing in your hands,” he paused, and when Machk glanced over at him he looked away quickly.  “Well, I guess you'll have to pay in stories or something.  We don’t get south of the snows much, after all," Isak shrugged it off like it was nothing, not looking at Machk put more wood on the fire.

"Stop calling me Summerboy,” Machk protested weakly.  “I'm older than you are.”

Isak just grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners not light enough to hide the threat in his teeth.  "You're all boys to us; you get scared as soon as the snow starts to fall.  Like a kid in a thunderstorm."  Machk felt small all of a sudden, his whole body aware of the fact that this was  _ Isak’s _ territory, Isak’s cold, Isak huge enough to hold him down and keep him there if he felt like it.

Then Isak swiped a handful of snow up and shoved it down the back of Machk's cloak, laughing uproariously at Machk's shriek and not even bothering to dodge when Machk swiped snow back at him.

“All right, calm the fuck down,” a stocky man said good-naturedly as he tromped through the snow toward them; he looked for all the world like he’d been carved out of a block of pale, craggy stone, and poorly.  Isak gave him a blinding grin and his scarred face cracked open in one of his own, though, and he shooed Isak away from the edge of the fire the same way you’d shoo an overlarge dog out of the kitchen.  “Rocky,” he said with an outstretched hand to Machk.

“Machk.”

“Nice to meet ya.  Don’t suppose you’ve got anything to throw in the pot?” he asked, and sure enough he was pulling a huge stockpot out of a snowdrift nearby a moment later.  Machk hurried to help him half-drag, half-carry it to the fire.

“Just a couple of…” Machk paused, then lit up.  “One second.”

He tromped back to Isak’s tent as quickly as he could and pushed through the flaps of it.  He was ready to offer an explanation to Brandr, but the other man barely acknowledged him when he came in, just darted a half-glance at him before going back to whatever he was reading at the table against the wall.  Machk rifled through where his things were still piled by the door, and then was out into the snow again a moment later.

He held the MRE out to Rocky, who lit up and tore it open easily.  “Cranberries.  Fucking amazing,” he said almost reverently, and had the little packet open and dumped into the stockpot a moment later.  He tapped the last couple out into his palm and handed one to Machk, and flicked one at Isak.  “Boy, eat your fruits.”

“Ughhhh,” Isak rolled his eyes, but he was grinning when he popped it into his mouth.

“Thank god for freeze-drying,” Machk laughed as Rocky started to build the fire around the stockpot.

“Rocky!” the tall woman from yesterday was coming across camp toward them.  “We got enough meat left to have some with breakfast?  I’m fucking dying for something to sink my teeth into.  Frauke, glad you’re not dead,” she introduced herself and shook Machk’s hand without even looking away from Rocky.

Rocky raised one eyebrow and then shrugged.  “If you want to share with the summerboys, we’re not in trouble yet.  Keep an eye on the pot.”

“He was a kitchen manager before everything went to hell,” Isak explained as Rocky disappeared around the side of the cracked boulder.  “Keeps us on track now so we don’t eat ourselves out of house and home.”

“Despite your best efforts,” Rocky said as he came back with a massive, frozen rack of ribs and set to cutting and breaking them apart.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Machk boggled.

“Herd of deer we came across a few weeks back,” Isak grinned.  “You all hunt them so much below the snowline, they hide up here where you’re afraid to chase them.”

“Don’t let your eyes get big, we hunt ‘em pretty careful and I’ll hunt  _ you _ if you bring that word down when you go,” Frauke threatened.  “I’m keeping my fingers crossed the ecosystem’ll rebound, but it’s not gonna if we eat everything before it replaces itself.  I was a park ranger,” she explained and gave a wry little smile, just a little bit sad.

“Maybe it’d be easier if  _ somebody _ wasn’t trying to bring on the next ice age,” Brandr appeared behind Isak, knocking his knuckles against Isak’s skull as he sat down on Isak’s other side, and Isak laughed.

“It’s good for the environment!  Wipe the slate clean and all that.  Ice helps cut radiation, doesn’t it?”

“Won’t do any good if it’s too cold for anything to grow.”

“Fine, I’ll stop the snow and let everyone come north until we’re run into the bay,” Isak rolled his eyes in mock-offense, but there was something about the way he said it, like he  _ could.   _ Machk had opened his mouth to ask when he saw Brandr shake his head sharply, staring straight at him while Isak was looking away, and he snapped it shut again.

“Better not to, I like the cold,” Monika said as she meandered toward the fire with the other two girls, and Rocky started filling bowls with whatever steaming concoction the stockpot was full of.  It smelled  _ amazing _ , especially with the sizzle of the cooking meat.

The pale blond girl with Monika stopped between Machk and the other two, folding her arms across her chest.  “I don’t want him with us again,” she said plainly, looking him dead in the eye.  “We’ll keep Poet because he can’t get around on his own, but I don’t trust that one.”  It made sense, but Machk still winced.

“So, who wants to take him in?” Isak asked calmly, passing bowls along, but the only answer was the clack of silverware.

“It’s all right,” Machk said quietly.

“Yeah, but I’m not leaving you out to freeze, either.”  A few others had appeared out of their tents and made their way over, and Isak pulled Machk up with him as he stood.  “We’ve got two summerboys with us for a few days while one of them gets fixed up, and Machk needs a place to stay,” Isak said loud enough for everyone to hear.  His hand squeezed Machk’s shoulder, small comfort against the feeling of being on display.  “I’m open to terms.”

“Assurances?” someone asked.

“He’s a guide from LSC,” Isak said, and Machk wondered how he knew that as titters went through the group.  Not everyone seemed reassured by that.  “The storm’s not over yet, an extra body’s worth of heat will be good to have,” Isak offered, but no one stepped forward.  Finally he nodded.  “All right.  Come on, then, dig in,” he turned back to the fire and sat down again, reaching for another bowl from Rocky to pass along.  “Guess you’re staying with us,” he grinned across at Machk like it didn’t mean anything.  “Got to pump you for information from down south anyways.”

***

"Shh, shhh, sleep."

Machk rolled over, blinking himself halfway awake at the sound of movement across the tent.  Someone snuffled noisily and then stumbled across the tent.

"Nonono, not that way, shhh," the soft tone in Brandr's voice was strange compared to how loud and harsh he was during the day.  "Wait, hold on--" The light changed just enough when the flaps of the tent were pushed open that Machk could see Brandr follow Isak outside, and he wondered if he'd somehow slept into the day.

He grabbed his cloak from the rack, and then realized that Brandr's and Isak's were still tangled on the floor.  He hesitated a moment, unsure, but then swept them up and pushed into the cold outside.

The moon was full and the sky seemed like it was made of crystal, it was so clear.  The air was still but so cold it felt like knives on his skin, and he quickly made after the shadowy shapes moving toward the edge of camp in hope that it would warm him up before he froze solid.

Brandr whirled on him before he got within ten feet, knives in his hands and a terrified look on his face.  Puffs of fog sucked between his bared teeth for the few seconds it took him to recognize Machk in the eerie light, and then he sheathed the knives and reached out for his cloak like he hadn’t been about to attack.  "Thanks, I lost track of it in the dark."

"What's going on?" Machk asked as Brandr wrapped it around himself and chafed his arms for warmth.  Machk called out quietly to Isak, "Isak, I have your--"

_ "Shut up!" _ Brandr hissed, grabbing to cover Machk's mouth and looking across at Isak like he was afraid of him.  Isak had only paused, and now shook himself and started slow and lumbering through the snow again.

"He's going to  _ freeze-" _ Machk protested, trying to shove Brandr away.  Isak was naked to the waist, pale as the snow and skin criscrossed with scars - Machk could feel the cold sinking into him even through all his layers, Isak would have hypothermia in minutes in his state.

"I know, but he'll be fine, just don't get near him, don't wake him," Brandr's voice was desperate.  "He'll get cold and stop after a while, and then we can drag him back."

"What the  _ hell?" _

Brandr hushed him even as Isak paused ahead of them to look out through the trees, and the huge man gave a low noise halfway between a rumble and a croon.  It could have come out of an animal, for all the sense it made, and after a moment he stumbled slowly on through the knee-deep snow.

"Is he  _ sleepwalking?" _ Machk gaped.

"Or close enough," Brandr said, taking the bearskin cloak from Machk and draping it over both their shoulders.  "Come on."

They moved on through the midnight light reflecting off the snow, the sticks of trees casting silvery-blue shadows like claws as they followed Isak.  Every now and again Isak would stop and scent the air through his mouth in great clouds, or lean against a winter-dead tree until it creaked under his weight, or give another one of those low, heartbreaking noises that fell dead under the snow-covered trees.

"He's done this the last few years," Brandr said quietly.  "Won't remember a thing in the morning, but someone like him is big enough to do a lot of damage if he wakes up scared."  Brandr rubbed his chest as he said it, not looking at Machk.

"What started it?"

Brandr was quiet a long time.  Then, finally, "...You see the scars on his back?"

Machk looked up at Isak; he'd stopped and was staring at the moon from a twenty feet in front of them.  His chest and shoulders were heaving for breath, and under the prickles of shivers and hair his back was crossed with so many scars there was barely any unmarked skin left.  Cuts, lashes, long, shiny burns, all healed raggedly and knotted like they’d festered and torn as they’d healed.

"The Skinners got a hold of him, a few years back," Brandr said quietly, and Machk sucked his breath in.  "They ran north with him; some vengeance play or something.  Don’t know what the  _ fuck  _ they were thinking.  They had him for three weeks before we tracked them down, but when we moved in, it was...bad."  Brandr's pretty face was twisted in an ugly frown at the memory.  "We had them on the ropes, but we'd been  _ stupid  _ and hadn't scouted the terrain well enough.  Hadn't seen the signs.  This fucking bear," he glared at the face of the bearskin where it hung next to his head, and looked like he was going to be sick.  "Hell fucking knows why it was so far south.  We'd just cut Isak loose and started to get him out of there when we see it gorging on some fucker's corpse.  Didn't even realize what it was until it reared up."  Brandr was staring out ahead of them almost as emptily as Isak, lost in the memory.  "It killed three of us before Isak killed it.  Broke its neck with his bare hands, and went down under it.  We couldn't get him out for hours.  Had to cut the thing apart to get it off him, it was so big."

_ "Jesus." _

"We were supposed to be saving him, and he saved us instead," Brandr laughed wetly.  "We'd been starving, chasing after him, and then we had all that meat.  And he just.  Now he does this, at night.  And he's.  Different.  He's still him, but there's just something not quite...he thinks he can..."  Brandr took a deep breath and let it out slowly, seeming to gather himself.  "Don't get behind him."

Machk looked across at him, confused, and Brandr stepped ahead enough to turn and look him dead in the eyes with so much intensity Machk didn't dare look away.

"He likes you.  And I've seen the way you look at him, like you think he’s gonna take a bite out of you and that you’ll thank him for it."  Machk's hackles went up, but Brandr waved it off, "I’ve got no problem with it; what makes him happy, makes me happy."  His voice dropped again. "But if you do get into bed with him, don't mention his back, don't mention any of this, and don't get behind him."  Isak shuffled to a stop ahead of them, and Brandr swore when he saw him drop to his knees.

Brandr was off like a shot, pulling the bearskin off Machk as he raced through the snow toward Isak.  He caught Isak before the bigger man quite fell facefirst into the snow, leaning him back onto his haunches again and bundling him up in the skin.

"He all right?" Machk asked when he caught up, but Isak's skin was cold as ice and shuddering under his hands.

"Come on, hey, come on," Brandr said, breath on Isak's face.  Isak made an incoherent noise back, eyes blinking unevenly.  "You're all right, come on, lug.  Let's get you back to bed."  He propped himself under one of Isak's arms and Machk did the same on the other side, and the weight of him nearly knocked the breath out of Machk when they lifted him enough to his feet to stumble back toward camp.  Isak was clearly trying to get his feet to work, and his mouth dropped slurred pieces of words, but he was more blacked out than conscious and they ended up mostly dragging him half-upright through the snow.

“Almost there, just hang in there and we’ll get you all bundled up like a bug,” Brandr said, keeping up a steady litany of reassurances that Machk wasn’t even sure Isak could hear.  “There we go, into the tent, into bed with you.”

They laid him down on the huge pile of blankets and worked the bearskin out from where it had tangled half-under him; Brandr didn’t even bother hanging it up, just tossed it to the side with his own cloak and stripped Isak and himself down to skin with brusque efficiency.  Brandr wasn’t a big man - more than a full head shorter than Machk - but he looked  _ tiny _   when he curled around Isak’s huge, shivering back and dragged blankets over them both.  Machk averted his eyes and backed toward the door, self-conscious of seeing either of them like this.

“Don’t go,” Brandr said, and it was louder enough than the stream of words he’d been murmuring to Isak that Machk looked up.  “Come on, he needs the warmth,” Brandr’s voice was almost like its usual careless commanding, but he was looking at Machk with more desperation than he’d probably meant to put on his face, and Machk just...breathed out slow, and knelt back down on the bed to take off his boots.

Isak was shivering hard enough it looked like it hurt.  Machk slipped under the pile of blankets to gently push Isak’s legs away from where they’d curled up to his body, tangling his own with them and Brandr’s and getting close enough he could feel Isak’s shiver-shaken breaths against his face.  He could  _ feel _ the cold radiating off him, and as soon as he dragged Isak’s arms from where they were fisted against the massive man’s own chest Isak seemed to realize he was there, and  _ warm _ , and clung to him.

Machk’s eyes had adjusted enough to the dark in the tent that he could see Isak’s eyes half-open, vague and confused, and Machk brushed a thumb down the bridge of his nose and whispered, “Shhh, we’ve got you.  We’ve got you now.  Sleep.”

***

Machk came slowly awake to heavy warmth against his back and huge arms wrapped around him, one worked partway up under his shirt and the other splayed across his chest.  He breathed out slow and steady as his body tried to decide if it was going to panic or be  _ really _ interested, and it settled on a little of both as Isak nuzzled against his neck from behind and shifted against him.  He could feel Isak hard against his lower back, and his own dick was starting to figure out that things were potentially happening and waking up, and his heart was pounding hard enough he had no doubt Isak could feel it against his palm.

“Isak?” Machk asked without moving.

Isak hmmed and ground against him, and Machk forced another slow, shaky breath out.

“Don’ worry about it,” Brandr mumbled from somewhere behind him, and then his slim hand was rubbing slow circles on Machk’s hip.  “Hey, Isak,” he whispered, and Isak shifted slightly with another sleepy noise.  Machk flushed dark at the soft, wet noises of the other two men kissing and started to pull himself out of Isak’s grip, but Brandr’s hand grabbed tight to his pocket.  “Don’t go,” Brandr said a few moments later.  “Unless you want to, I guess,” he said with just a hint of reluctance, and released his grip on Machk’s pants.

Machk managed to shift enough in the circle of Isak’s loosened arms to see Isak on his back and half-kissing Brandr’s neck sleepily, like he hadn’t realized Brandr was looking at Machk instead of at him.  Brandr was the first one to look away, looking down at his hand on Machk’s hip instead.

“He’s interested.”  Brandr’s fingers were tracing circles on Machk’s hip again, and slowly enough it was a question, he slid his hand across and down to grip Machk gently through his pants and force another shaky breath out of him.  “And what makes him happy, makes me happy.”

Isak was blinking himself awake slowly, and Brandr drew his hand back to slide along Isak’s thigh.  “Mornin’, Big Bear,” he said as he kissed him again.

“Uh,” Isak said as he finally came awake enough to really realize Machk was there and look over at him.   “Uh, hi.”

Machk cracked a grin at how red he got.  “Hi,” he said back, turning the rest of the way over so he was facing Isak properly and settling a hand on Isak’s hip, pillowing his head on his other arm.  “Good to see you’re still alive.”

“You too?” Isak said with a more-than-slightly confused smile.

“I got you a present,” Brandr said simply and kissed Isak’s ear, and Machk snorted a laugh as Isak managed to go redder.

“I’m never telling you anything  _ ever again,”  _ Isak groaned, hiding his face behind his gorgeous arm like it would make a difference.

“Liar,” Brandr sing-songed, leaning over to kiss his ear again.

“You want me to go?” Machk said after a moment, enough smile in it to make it lighthearted and enough softness to make it an honest offer, but he  _ really _ hoped Isak didn’t.

Isak snuck a quick glance at Brandr, who was trailing a finger lightly up and down the line of his bicep and giving him a lazy smile in return.

All the air went out of Isak at once.  “No,” he said, breathless, and tightened his arms around Machk to pull him in tight and kiss him.  Machk kissed back and it was hungry and wanting, tongues playing against each other as his hands searched for a place to settle as they slid over Isak’s huge shoulders, grabbed at his arms and smoothed down his sides.  Isak rolled them over so Machk was on his back and  _ damn, _ he’d known Isak was bigger than him but like this, with him blocking out half the room with his body, he seemed  _ huge. _  Machk’s head fell back and his breath shuddered out of him as Isak kissed down his neck, and he closed his eyes to savour the feel of Isak’s lips, Isak’s beard scratching across the thin skin of his throat, Isak’s thigh across his trapped cock.

“Hey,” Isak said breathlessly, pulling away, and when Machk opened his eyes a cautious softness was wrinkling between Isak’s thick eyebrows.  "You want me ease up, just say?"

"What, you think I can't handle you?" Machk chuckled, then reached up to playfully knock Isak's head.  "Dumb kid."

_ "Kid," _ Isak's whole face twisted into a grin as he snorted a laugh.  "I've led the Storm across half the wastes between the Poison and the Old Lakes, and conquered it all.  And you're next," he leaned down and growled playfully into Machk's hair, biting at a lock and tugging at it like a dog with a rope.

Machk laughed and pulled him into another kiss, letting him block out the world and dipping his tongue into Isak’s mouth.  Isak’s hands started to wander again, and he let his own do the same - Isak was all thick muscle overlaid with just enough fat to make him soft, every ounce of him made for surviving on the edge of winter.  Machk could feel his scars under his hands, thick vicious lines cutting through Isak’s chesthair and liquid burns trailing over one shoulder, the edges of his back raised and recessed in a million places.  Machk slid away from his mouth to kiss his way to Isak’s ear, half-ruined from the same burns that went down his neck and splashed over his shoulder, and a helpless noise dropped from Isak’s lips.  Machk wanted to steal this dumb warlord kid away and hide him from the world, or maybe run away with him.

Isak’s hips bucked against his suddenly - he was panting against Machk’s shoulder now, one hand clenching and splaying hopelessly against Machk’s chest where he’d dragged his shirt up, cock twitching against Machk’s hip.

“He talks a big game, but he’s so easy to get riled up,” Brandr said from where he was lounging on one of the chairs across the tent, and Machk’s eyes darted quick to him - he’d almost forgotten he was there.  Isak tightened guiltily next to Machk but Brandr was just watching them, eyes half-lidded but full of interest.  "Don't mind me," his lips quirked into a lazy grin as he stroked himself casually through his pants.  "I just like seeing him happy.  And you  _ do  _ look good together."

"Brandr," Isak said, voice halfway between embarrassed and warning.

"It's the contrast," Brandr interrupted Isak with a chuckle, and then caught Machk's eyes.  "You should kiss him before he gets all embarrassed and talks himself out of sleeping with you.”

“I will, but only because I’d been planning on it anyways,” Machk chuckled and wrapped his lips around the shell of Isak’s ear again until he moaned against Machk’s shoulder and thrust against his hip.

Isak’s hand skated down across Machk’s belly until he found the bulge of his cock, palming it through his pants and making Machk’s breath catch.  He rolled off Machk enough to be able to look down his body as he undid Machk’s pants and drew him out.  His three-fingered hand was stark and pale against Machk’s dark cock, and Machk shivered as he smeared a drop of precome across the head with his thumb.

Then he was moving, straddling Machk’s thigh to drag his shirt over his head, and then scooting down through the pile of blankets to kiss and lick down Machk’s belly.  Machk’s fingers twisted in Isak’s hair as Isak mouthed the edge of his cock, making his way up to take the head of it between his lips and lave his tongue against it.

Isak wrapped the fingers of his good hand around the base of Machk’s cock and worked his lips down over him bit by bit, hand following the slick back and forth until Machk was panting for breath and shuddering trying to keep from thrusting up into that wet heat.  Isak was gorgeous, eyes all but closed, flush spreading across his face, cheeks hollow as he took more and more of Machk in on every downstroke.  He moaned around Machk’s cock and Machk almost came then and there, hips bucking up and fingers tightening in Isak’s hair and a helpless noise breaking from his own throat.

“Not gonna last long like this,” Machk admitted shakily as Isak continued to move, scraping his fingertips shakily against the stubble on either side of Isak’s head.

Isak just gave a soft, drawn-out ‘mmm’, barely more assent than moan, taking another inch into his mouth and making Machk groan at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Machk whispered hoarsely, rolling his hips to set up a rhythm between Isak’s lips.  “Fuck, okay.”  He could feel Isak was about at his limit, the head of Machk’s cock bottoming out at the back of his mouth, so he thrust quick and shallow and loved the slick feeling of Isak’s tongue, Isak’s lips, Isak’s hand.  Isak was moaning around him again, the sound broken off every time Machk pushed into his mouth, and Machk focused on that, on the hitch in his breath and the way Isak’s hand stole down to grip at his own cock even as he went down on Machk, hot and wet and straining for more and his balls were drawing tight, “Gonna come, gonna--” and Isak just moaned low and filthy and it shook through Machk and sent him over the edge, gasping as his cock pulsed and Isak just kept going, taking him deep and swallowing him down until Machk was shaking and oversensitive.

Isak looked straight out of a porno magazine when he finally pulled away, lips wet and swollen and hair a mess, eyes half-lidded and almost out of focus, mouth open just enough to make Machk’s cock twitch like it wanted to go another round already.  He kissed his way up Machk’s body until he was more than even, shoulder even with Machk’s nose so he could grind the bulge in his pants into the hollow of Machk’s hip.  The friction was almost too much and drove Machk’s breath out of him, and he didn’t know if he wanted to drag Isak closer or shove him away.

Machk dragged Isak down to kiss him again, tasting himself on Isak’s tongue and licking his way into his mouth for more.  “C’mon, please, touch me,” Isak said harshly against his mouth, grinding desperately against Machk’s thigh now.  Machk pulled at Isak's lip with his teeth and let his hands trace down and then work at Isak’s belt, only fumbling a little before he had it open.  Isak shifted up over him again, putting his cock in easier reach - he was ridiculous, bigger than Machk even - and he thrust into Machk’s hands helplessly.

“Hey, calm down, there’s no rush,” Machk chuckled, bringing one hand up to the back of Isak’s neck to pull him down into another kiss.

“Easy for you to say,” Isak panted, still rocking into the circle of Machk’s hand, but a little less desperately now.  “You haven’t been waiting.”

“‘S true, you took good care of me,” Machk murmured back, nuzzling his way to Isak’s ear.  “Gonna take good care of you, too.  Seems rude to just give you a handjob, after what you did for me,” he murmured against Isak’s ear, and Isak shivered from head to toe and his cock jumped in Machk’s hand.  Machk looked across at Brandr, who was still watching them - from the satisfied look on his face and the smear of wetness across his belly, he’d gotten off at some point too, and he gave Machk a slow, lazy grin and a raised eyebrow.  Machk mouthed ‘lube?’ to him and the grin spread a little wider.  He tossed a bottle from the table next to him without a word and it landed perfectly within reach.  “Think you can hold out while I get ready?” Machk murmured in Isak’s ear again, fumbling the bottle open one-handed, and when Isak saw it he groaned low and needy enough that Machk’s cock thought about perking up again.

Isak buried his face against the blankets over Machk’s shoulder.  “Ain’t no way it’s gonna fit,” he said with such a hilarious muffled combination of misery and arousal in his voice it made Machk bite back on a laugh.  “I’d split you open.”

“Yeah well,” Machk shimmied his pants down enough to slide the first two slick fingers into himself, a little breathless with how sensitive he still was.  “Maybe that’s how I like it, you ever think of that?”

Isak groaned again, this time sliding out of Machk’s hand and turning to kiss along his neck again, all tongue and open mouth and hot breath and the barest scrape of teeth.  Machk’s breath hitched as he felt Isak’s hand slide down next to his, cupping his wrist and then delicately sliding further to press his own fingers next to Machk’s, circling his hole.

“Worried I can’t do it myself?” Machk chuckled.

“Just tryin’ to be helpful,” Isak said against his neck.  “Ready for another?”

He wasn’t quite yet, but when he grazed across Isak’s ear with his teeth Isak  _ whimpered, _ cock twitching against Machk’s thigh, and he couldn’t just leave him like that.  He murmured “Go on, then,” and Isak’s thick finger slid slowly in next to his own, stretching him open more than he expected and making him pant, glad Isak was still distracted trying to pull marks up on his neck and shoulder so he wouldn’t see him wince.  “Having any luck there?” he joked as casually as he could as Isak drew teeth over his skin, and Isak looked a little sheepish.

“Can’t even tell I’ve been here,” he mumbled a little unhappily against Machk’s throat.

_ “I _ can tell,” Machk chuckled, breath catching as Isak stretched him open a little more.  Isak was dragging his cock forward and back across Machk’s thigh with absentminded little rolls of his hips, and Machk grinned at the wet little trail of precome he was leaving behind.  His own cock was waking up, and it wasn’t long before Isak noticed.

“Ready for round two?” Isak smirked and palmed him again.

“Ready for more,” Machk grinned right back and twisted his hips, pulling Isak down for another kiss.  Isak slid another finger into him and Machk slid his tongue into Isak’s mouth, hand tight in the big man's hair.  Isak was sliding his fingers against each other and stretching them apart inside him, and Machk’s hips were starting to move on their own to try to take more of them in and get friction against his cock.  God, he  _ wanted,  _ and it was killing him not to just push Isak down and get on top of him now.  Isak slid another finger in and it  _ ached _ in the best way, and Machk groaned and twisted against the intrusion.

_ “Fuck,” _ Isak said seriously, looking down at him.  “Just tell me when, fuck, I am  _ not  _ gonna make a good show of myself.”

Machk actually laughed at that, his own fingers slipping out and gasping at the way it made Isak’s move in him.  “Fuck, come on then,” he said and squirmed Isak’s fingers out so he could shimmy out of his pants.  He only realized Isak was staring when they were already most of the way off, and slowed to a stop with his pants still tangled around his real foot, his robotic leg fully exposed.

“Wow,” Isak said finally, trailing the fingers of his damaged hand down Machk’s thigh, across the seam between flesh and metal without a pause.  “This is gorgeous.”

“Told you he had a prosthetic leg,” Brandr teased from across the room, and Machk let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding until he wasn’t anymore.

He managed a laugh and a grin.  “The old one couldn’t keep up, so I got an upgrade.”

“Hopefully you won’t feel the need to upgrade anything else,” Isak grinned, pulling Machk into his lap and slipping a hand around his cock, stroking him slow until he was hard again.  As soon as he was, Isak dragged him closer until he could get his hand around both of them and lean in close.  “Cuz I like this just the way it is.”

“I dunno, seems like you’ve got the deluxe model,” Machk said, biting back a stupid grin.  “Think I can take it for a ride, see if I like it?”

Isak snorted a laugh and Machk took the opportunity to shove him backward, sending him sprawling on the blankets.  “Go for it, if you think you can handle it,” he grinned, standing his cock up with one hand and settling the other on Machk’s hip, a little breathless as Machk came up on his knees to line him up.

He felt just as big as he was as Machk pressed back and let him in, blunt head spreading Machk open enough to ache and not relenting as he pressed down further.  Machk panted, mouth dropped open as he rocked down on Isak, every inch feeling like too much in the best way - and then Isak was pushing back up against him and it was just too much, too much too fast, and at the pained noise that squirmed out of Machk’s throat Isak froze and then pulled out all at once.

“Sorry, fuck I’m  _ so sorry,”  _ Isak was practically tripping over himself, sitting up under Machk and peppering his chest with kisses.  Machk gasped and felt  _ empty, _ shaking at the sudden change, and when he’d halfway caught his breath he swatted the side of Isak’s head.

“Idiot,” he said a little shakily, but grinned with it.  “You think you’re gonna break me so easy?”  He pushed Isak back on the bed again and he went easy, and squirmed under Machk when Machk leaned over him and lined him up again.  He just slid Isak along the crack of his ass, watching the way Isak’s eyes closed and his mouth dropped open in a pant, hips jerking up against Machk again.  “You gonna be able to hold still this time, or am I gonna have to get Brandr to tie you down?” he tilted his head toward the man across the room, who made a delighted noise at the suggestion.

“No,” Isak said, blushing dark and hiding his face behind his crossed arms, hips shuddering to a stop.  “Fuck, I won’t move, just,  _ please-” _ his voice broke off in a whine as Machk moved against him, keeping up the friction.

“There you go,” Machk said softly, and moved so he could press down on him again.

It was easier this time, his body opening up to Isak’s cock with a glorious stretch that went on and on.  Isak was swearing, a low stream of syllables that barely made sense as Machk sank down on him, whole body shivering under Machk’s as he tried to stay still and didn’t quite manage.  “Please, please please, fuck, I’m, I want, so close so close soclose, please-”

“Almost,” Machk panted, rocking down; every time he wanted more he got it, aching and full and just this side of too much.  “Almost, just-” he didn’t even know if he’d be able to come like this, so full he could barely breathe and feeling like he should be able to see Isak’s cock stretching out his belly.

Isak was moving again, barely-there little thrusts that just made it even better.  One of his hands had come down to rest on Machk’s hip, gentle pressure keeping him from really coming up, and Machk didn’t protest when the little thrusts started to roll longer, pulling out and then pushing back in slow, leaving him desperately empty and then punishingly full.

Isak pulled him down on him until they both were gasping each others’ breath, Machk clinging to him as Isak dragged against every sensitive spot he had on every thrust - and then Isak was gripping his hips tight enough to bruise, cock stiff and pulsing and  _ too much, _ stretched and aching and slick and then Machk was coming too, gasping and spattering across Isak’s chest.

_ “Fuck,” _ Machk finally managed to say, heart still racing as he tried to keep his shaking arms from giving out and dumping him on top of Isak

“Mmm,” Isak groaned lazily, and Machk gasped and tried to twist away from the oversensation when Isak cupped his cock.  He dragged Isak’s hand away from him and let himself down, collapsing in slow motion to pant against Isak’s chest at the feeling of Isak slipping half out of him.

“You’re gonna make a mess all over the blankets,” Brandr drawled, flopping down next to them.  Isak shifted slightly under Machk, and when Machk turned to look Brandr and Isak were kissing, tender enough to make Machk’s heart clench and make him turn away quickly.

But then Brandr was brushing locks of Machk’s hair away and nosing up against his ear, kissing the lobe gently.  “Thanks,” Brandr murmured before pulling away, but when Machk turned to look at him he looked so irreverent he wondered if he’d imagined it.

***

Isak, Brandr, and a few other Stormers walked them to within sight of a relatively friendly town, and then abruptly stopped on the edge of what might once have been woods before the trees had been stripped and bent.  “This is as far as we go,” Isak said simply.

“Edge of your territory?” Machk asked.

“Not nearly,” Isak laughed, then gestured at the soft white as far as the eye could see.  “Anywhere there’s snow belongs to us.  Sometimes it just doesn’t know it yet.”  He winked.

“So…?”

He shrugged.  “We just don’t go into town if we don’t have reason to.  Easier to keep everyone safe out where nobody wants to go, easier to keep up the scary stories if we’re ghosts.”

Machk smirked.  “You mean if no one can see how big a softie you are.”

Isak grinned.  “That too.”  Then he abruptly bundled Machk up in a massive hug, lifting him clear off the ground.  “Make sure you spread our scary stories.”

“I will,” Machk laughed as Isak set him back on his feet.

Poet put his arms up defensively when Isak rounded on him, and Isak just laughed.  “Take better care of yourself, Roomba, if you trash Monika’s work I’ll sic Klara on you.”

“I won’t,” he said warily, only slowly putting down his arms as he stepped back to halfway behind Machk.  “But tell her,” he paused, “thanks?  For me.”  The whole thing sounded more like an unsure statement than any kind of gratitude, but Isak smiled.

“She won’t appreciate it, but I’ll let her know.  Now get out of here, before someone sees us together!” he shooed them off.

Machk and Poet started toward the town, the snow only calf-deep but still more than enough to slow them down.  They’d gone a few dozen feet when Machk turned around to wave goodbye again - but the Stormers were already gone, disappeared into the snow and spindly woods like ghosts.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ChimaAmla) and [tumblr](http://chimaamla.tumblr.com)


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